The Rebel King
by KillerKatStrickesBack
Summary: Medieval AU. Bellamy and Clarke are childhood friends. But what will happen when a rebellion hits? Bellamy is confused and thinks Clarke is dead. Bellamy Now Leads a Rebellion and Clarke not as dead as some may think...
1. Ten years ago

**First fan-fic. I don't own The 100 or any characters in it.**

 **Hope you enjoy.**

Bellamy P.O.V

The bushes rustle as nine year old Bellamy squirms his way through the bushes not wanting to be seen. He stops moving and all became quiet, well for a few seconds anyway.

"Found you," seven year old Clarke said smugly, puffing out her chest. Her blonde hair out, flowing all over her dress.

"No fair, you just ask the gardeners where I've hid."

Clarke had been Bell's best friend ever since he got a job as a servant boy for Queen Abigail and King Jakob, Clarke's parents. Although the pay is ok, three gold pieces a week, the work is tiring and dirty. Working in the stables, taking the manure out to the gardens, feeding the dogs, sometimes they mistake Bellamy's fingers for their dinner. He worked from day to dusk, and once home Bellamy would look after his two year old sister Octavia, ever since his dad walked out on him and his mother taken to the tavern every night seeking a distraction, he had became Octavia's new carer .

Life was hard for young Bellamy but working for royalty did have its perks, after all the big impressive feast all the servants got to take home some leftover food from the feasts, which were always a delicious. And the housing that came with working at the castle, no rent needed to be paid as long as he worked there.

It had been an ordinary day when it happened, he had just been sent to move some furniture to the guest house to make room for Clarke's Coronation, to become an official Princess. The day he dreaded for the day Clarke becomes Princess is the day their friendship ends. For it is not good form for royally to be around their subordinates.

Bellamy was having difficulty carrying this ridiculously heavy chair through the corridors and stairwells of the castle. What was this made of mahogany? Bellamy thought as a cluster of people walked by. Good lord, that is Duke Jaha and his son Wells, the boy that Clarke is already arranged to marry. He hated the concept of arranged marriage especially if it's Clarke. For who should not be able to marry out of love. He quietly place the chair down, he let out a little yelp of pain as he put the chair down on his toes. He tried to ignore the pain in his toes, he awkwardly bowed to the passing royals, it was hard to bend down because the more he moved the mor painful it got, none of them taking any notice to him. why should they he was just a mere servant?

Once he had finished his first lot of rounds, he had ten minutes off, which he usually spent with Clarke but he figured that the Coronation would fill up her schedule. He walked down to the gardens, he usually found one of the gardener's son, Monty working for a bit of extra wages. He was a nice guy, usually using his look of innocence to bypass his mischiefs, stealing bread or candles.

Monty was found behind the herb garden playing some sort of game on this weird looking board, painted in a black and white checkered pattern, moving round pieces. He was playing with his friend, well they were more like brothers, Jasper. He was an interesting boy always, with gangly limbs, skinny boy and a mop of brown hair where he would always wear these weird goggles.

He didn't make himself known, he didn't want to interrupt, knowing when his presence was not wanted. He wished for something that Jasper and Monty had, a unbreakable bond where social status didn't matter, where one was truly accepted for being themselves.

As he walked across the stone wall, barely half his height, he looked at the huge castle in front of him, with tall pointy towers, secret chambers, dark desolate dungeons, huge halls, rooms that normally would hold almost thirty peasants, libraries full of millions of books, books that no man could finish in one lifetime. He thought of the intricate political side of royalty, the royal court, discussing little petty things like stolen stock to the more important issues, movement of armies, declarations of war, managing peace. These huge thing went on around him but bellamy was just a servant here. Yet he felt he was destined for something more. Something great. But what?

The felling of loss and confusion overwhelmed his mind, why should a nine year old be a servant. Because he was born in that social hierarchy, he believed that an individual should be able to choose his life, what they want to do. Not limited by their status but by their determination. As he thought about the social injustice of the world he lived in in this day, he grew angrier and more determined to make a change.

Suddenly rustle brought him back to reality, guards became unsettled, voices rose and there was a sudden sense of urgency and panic to the atmosphere. Guards filtered into the castle. Bellamy felt agitated, what was happening in their? And then his thoughts went to Clarke, something must of happened tho her?

No one noticed Bellamy swerve through bodies in the castle. People were every where crowded in the corridors but Bellamy knew this place inside and out he knew shortcuts and secret passages. He took many turns left, right, right again until he reached it, the kitchen. There was a small passage to each of the royals rooms for meal serving purposes. The kitchen was deserted, free from its usual hurried movements trying to get food ready. The door creaked as he opened, wincing at the noise. He scurried through the complex of tunnels to the Princess's quarters. The stone floor was slippery so he had to be careful not to fall over. Dampness and the smell of mould was overwhelming and he wanted to get out. As he slipped, almost falling over, around his last corner, he noticed something terribly wrong, the door was ajar. No one knew about these tunnels except the serving girls, cooks and maid. It was a miracle that Bellamy knew about them. But why were they open the morning meal were served almost two hours ago, So why were they open?

Skidding into the room he found nothing, Clarke was not here. He looked around hoping. Wishing for a sign. A sign that she had left to meet Duke Jaha or sneak sweets. Panic slowly taking control. Her fleecy white coat still hung on the hook, she would leave her room without it. Her charcoal and parchment were scattered across her table. Her walked towards the table, praying that she was okay somewhere. There, on her desk, lay a picture of the stars part way through the drawing, with a harsh stroke coming off the side as if someone had snatched her up. Shakily, Bellamy picked up the drawing, examining it, he turned it over finding a piece of text that defiantly was not Clarke's, it read:

-Your dear Princess Clarke,we killed today, to prove to citizens of Arkanian, that to royally on girl is worth more than several low class servants.

Confusion struck Bellamy first. What was this letter talking about? But then he realised something more terrible. Clarke was dead. Pain gripped his heart. He fell to his knees and cried out, tears flowing down his cheeks.

The pain and loss became worse when two days latter, all the servants that knew about the serving tunnels were executed for treason, no one knew he was also one of the individuals who had knowledge about the tunnels. Women and girls mainly, 23 in total, probably all innocent as well. Suddenly Bellamy knew what the letter was talking about? The 'Rebels' as the guards called them killed one but the royals killed 23 all for one.

Clarke wound to of wanted that, even though she acted stuck up, she had a strong sense of justice. So the he decided what he would do next. He would gather his own group of rebels, loyal follows, seeking to bring balance to the world, where servants were no longer servants, where they had rights and weren't pushed around by was determined to become the Rebel King.

Little does he know Clarke is still alive.

 **Ten Years Later...**


	2. Comander Captured

**Ten Years Later...**

"Too long the 'so called lower class citizens' have been treated like dirt. Too long have the privileged turned away, from starving children, murdered street rats, abusive husbands. The royalty don't care. They don't care about anything except for themselves." Bellamy stood on a wooden crate, using his height as an advantage. There was a crowd listen, a few dozen maybe, cramped in the corners of the two main streets of this particular village.

"It is time" he continued raising his voice, using as a tool, trying to persuade people to join his rebellion. "Time to fight for change. Time for the privileges to feel the hardships of going to a lossy job, for 12 long hours and receiving what, 10 gold pieces, a week! And struggling then to feed a full family, rent a

nd God knows what else." Bellamy preached, emphasising every word. Captivating the entire street.

"It is time we stop being servant. Slaves to those unworthy of us. It is time we fight for what we believe in." He threw his fist in the air and the crowds cheered.

• • •

Octavia ran up to him, her brown hair flew behind her. It was mostly out, apart from some small braids coming out the side of her head. She was tall for her age, towering over most of the other twelve year olds in villages the camp was set up. Bellamy smiled at her and hugged her tightly.

"Bell, how did it go?" She asked inquisitively. She sure was curious.

"It went better than expected. No guards and I got a few people signed up for the raid next month." He said positively.

As they walked up a hill the Rebel camp came into view, it was small and cozy nestled close to a dense forest. It was a perfect location, the forest had plenty of animals to hunt and a five minute walk there was a fresh supply of water. In total they had a barracks, mess hall (well more like tent), smoke house, games room, med bay and lots and lots of housing tents.

There were 47 rebels living at Basecamp, these were the most trusted by Bellamy but there were others, people who weren't living at Basecamp. More discrete member that helped with gathering information and sometimes raids. For the most of the year they spent gathering numbers and planning missions. Mostly reeking havoc, being a real pain in the royal courts behind. Stealing money from the tax banks giving the money back to those who struggle with financial difficulty. Trouble paying rent and of the likes.

He entered the camp, everyone raising there heads waving and smiling at him, he replied the gesture. He walked past Monroe and Fox, two of there finest hunters, bring back a carcass. Enough meat to last the week. They walked past and waved, blood dripping from their hands as they did so. He turned around and ran into Raven almost making her fall. She was, out of all the Rebels, the greatest schemer. She was amazing at finding the best suitable plans for raids, knowing blueprints and schematics of the place of interest, by heart. She was also the designer of this amazing system. Heating large amounts of water at one time and then a contraption that you could bathe with that conserved a considerable amount of water. With warm water! That was poured over your head whilst you stood up. It was genius. Which meant that at no time were the Rebels covered in muck and smelling like manure.

"Bellamy!" Raven exclaimed, once recovered from the sudden surprise she continued, "Just the King I was looking for, yesterday's raid, the one lead by Murphy ran into a little bit of trouble."

"What. So they have been captured." He remained some what calm but there was a hint of distress to his voice.

" .No. Not like that, they're all fine on the contrary they ran into the Royal Guard and panicked." She spoke slowly as if not trying to admit what happened.

"The Royal Guard! What! What did they do?"

"They may or may not of ran into the Royal Guard's commander and um... Kidnapped him."

Raising his eyebrows, slightly impressed. "Kidnaped him, wait is this the infamous commander Kane? The one rumoured to be courting the Queen?" Rumours that arose after King Jakob's Death a decade a go, on of the many casualties in the Castle Siege, the Queen seemed company from Kane.

"The one and only." Raven replied, leading Bellamy to where Kane was being held. Through the camp to the detention hole. Which was basically exactly what it sounded like. A hole in the ground where the Rebels keep their prisoners. It was located a slight distance into the forest, in hopes that the prisoners would not discover the location of the camp or the numbers of forces that supported them.

They had protocol for talking with the enemy, the had code names depending on what roles they played in the group of rebels. Bellamy was the 'Rebel King' or 'King' and Raven was lieutenant. Most of the time these names stuck and you were called these names around camp. They also were to hold there tongues and be careful what they say, who knows what might happen if someone slipped and spilled critical information.

"Well, Well, Well. If it's not the queens most loyal dog," Bellamy taunted as he looked down through the wooden bars to the prisoner bellow. He was all bruised and bloodied, he still wore the Guard's uniform but it was in terrible quality.

"So, the Rebel King has graces me with his presence." Kane said half-heartedly as if tired from the effort of speech.

"Let's cut the formalities Kane, I have a few plans on how I can deal with you. Cliche as it is, there are two ways we can do this, the easy way or the hard way, it's your choice."

Silence was the answer. Even after removing his food and water for three days, he refused to speak. Even after a series of 'harsher' methods that left Kane hanging onto life he didn't budge. He truly was a loyal creature. But Bellamy had another trick up his sleeve.

 **Kane's P.O.V**

There was blood, dirt and mud everywhere in the dirt hole. The smell was unbearable, he would probably remember the smell until the day he died, which didn't seem to far away. He felt like he failed his Queen, all because of that boy. What was his name? Mully?

He remembered doing his rounds, scanning every back alley for any suspicious behaviour. There had been talk of not one but TWO rebel groups out there. According to Kane's sources one took things to drastic measures. Showing no mercy. Killing anyone loyal to the Arkanian Hierarchy. This group, which The Guard called the Grounders, unknown why, was responsible for the attack ten years ago that left the queen a childless widow. Then there were these Rebels, Sky People, due to the fact they had very, very, high goals. The sky people were less cruel compared to the Grounders, there methods were a lot less hostile. Through his informants most of Sky People were recognised by a silver band they wore around their wrists and was lead by a boy that went by The Rebel King.

Kane had just gotten of his break and heard a commotion down an alley. He drew his sword then crept forward trying not to make a sound but that proved to be hard considering he was wearing heavy chain mail, yet he was not heard.

He heard whispers mentioning a Raid and The Rebel King, Kane knew he had found rebels but was totally and utterly alone. He could go back to the barracks and gather a few men and by that time the Rebels could be gone or Kane could attack them by himself and that was the draw back, he was alone and had no back looked up to asses the situation, to see if it may help his conundrum. He squeezed between crates at the end of the street from the point he was sitting he could see everything.

There was a group of two boys and a girl around eighteen maybe. The trio obviously had a leader the boy that seemed to be doing all the talking he seemed unpredictable and his face was unreadable, they also seemed to wear a silver band round their left hand. They were talking to a larger group that seemed older too. There was a lot of head shaking and suddenly the trio turned away and were walking towards him. The larger group dispersed and within seconds it was only the two boys, the girl and Kane left on the alley.

A silent sigh of relief escaped his mouth as they walked by, yet Kane felt like a coward hiding from mere children. No. He was not hiding, he was spying. He struggled to stand up straight and had to stretch his bones before he turned around to continue the patrol. But suddenly he blacked out, his last thought was of the pain that erupted from the back of his head. Then he woke up in a hole.

The hole was probably not the most secure place, he could tell. If he stood up his head may touch the wooden grate above. He probably would be able to escape if his hands weren't bound behind his back.

Rustling disturbed his peaceful silence and if he listen carefully he could hear voices. If he concentrated he could make out sentences.

"We could try and ransom." A female, the Lieutenant. Whispering as if not to be heard.

"Yes yes. That might work. We need to get rid of him before our raid next week on the castle. If we send a note to the Queen telling her to meet at the eastward forest, only a days walk north from camp. If all goes well we will get some good gold pieces if not we could always kill him." The King spoke.

The lieutenant made her way towards the Hole with The King right on her heels. Kane heard footsteps coming close. He dreaded this encounter. Nothing good could come out of it.

Suddenly he heard someone trip over, cuss, and a few seconds later something fell on to his lap.

"King, I dropped my knife." She said as she got down on all fours and searched through the leaves.

"It's too late to find it know, you can barely see anything. Just leave it. We will find it in the morning. Just give our hostage some food and let's get out of here."

She dropped half a loaf of bread down. Had a final kick around in the leaves, still trying to find her knife. With no luck she retreated back to camp. The the King turned around as well and walked away.

As the sound of footsteps faded Kane smiled, he had a way to escape and better yet. Information.

 **Bellamy's P.O.V**

The next morning Bellamy took Raven back to the Hole. Kane was gone. Now it was Bellamy's turn to smile. Kane had taken the bait.


	3. The message and the Girl

**Bellamy P.O.V**

He knew he shouldn't of done it, it was stupid and reckless. That's all he could think as he came back and forth, from a state of consciousness to passed out. Faces hovering above his head. Sometimes an old woman, bearing a kind wrinkled face. Sometimes a girl, maybe a bit younger that himself. She had a face that he struggled to remember, like a character of a childhood fantasy, one that had be long forgotten.

 **12 hours earlier.**

It seemed to go as planned. A week after Kane's release Bellamy set of to send a message. If Kane told the Queen about the plans of a raid, the Guard's would be expecting a force of soldiers not one lone man.

He got in easy enough. Waiting for the kitchen staff to go out to the gardens to restock herbs and vegetables, he slipped effortlessly through the numerous tables to the small door. He remembered it a bit bigger from his childhood, that was probably because he grew. It held painful memory's of a girl he once loved and lost.

As the door opened,it squeaked making Bellamy wince. No one heard so he continued agilely through the maze of tunnels. This was the hard part. He knew the way to the deceased Princess quarters of by heart but the queen, that was the tricky part.

Bellamy thought back, the Princess and the King And Queens chambers that food was delivered too, so it would make sense if the route to the Queens Quarters were more worn that the other tunnels.

Spending longer than expected, he eventually decided that the current route was surely the way to the Queens room. Using the old forgotten footprints in front of his as guide he weaved his way through the castles underworld.

Light seemed to begin to appear in the corners of the long stone corridors. And as the light slowly began he turned a corner. There was a handprint. In blood. A child's handprint in blood. As if a child was running through the the tunnels, blood on hands, and used the corner of the wall to make a sharper, quicker turn. If so, who was the child and what were they running from? As he neared closer he saw the blood had dried, emphasising its age.

Bellamy was curious. Was this handprint Clake's? What had happened here? Continuing through the network of tunnels he found another two hand prints, the same as the first. He had a sudden thought. What if the Princesses' remains were down here, at the time of her death the Guards told everyone that they were not permitted to say anything on the matter, if the had found the body or not? Rumours soon spread, about the same time Bellamy quit his job as a servant, that no body was found but blood. Too much blood.

He heard fragments of mumbles waft through the air, he was close. Creeping ever so quietly towards a door, that Bellamy had silently celebrated for its appearance. It took him a while to discover two voices a man and a women. Kane and..and the Queen, trying to put voices and faces together.

"-absolutely sure it wasn't a trap. We need to know if this has just being a rouse or if this 'Rebel King' is going to attack," Queen Abigail's voice was strong, fitting for a Queen, but there was a hint of sadness and heartache.

"Yes, yes. I am positive that they did not know I overheard there conversation." Kane said with total confidence.

"I sent out a patrol to the location you described and there was naught. A desolate hill with absolutely no trace that anyone ever made refuge there. I think that you receiving that sort of information, critical information and then a knife falling into your arms. No that is no coincidence, I believe you were set up,Sir Kane," the Queen said as if reassuring herself as well.

Clap. Clap. Clap. It was Bellamy's time to shine.

"My, my what a perceptive Queen you have Kane." Bellamy opened to door and stepped out, hands ready to draw the knives he had up his sleeve. The reaction to the sudden appearance was one of silence and bewilderment. Kane with his huge trap hand mode open, probably swallowing a few flies before quickly shutting it. Abigail was more subtly, all in the eyes. Surprise.. Shock and. And pain?

"I will take it you are the well they call the Rebel King." The Queen said after recovering her composure.

To which he replied with a extravagant bow. "The one and the only."

Kane crept towards the main door as if to warn the Guards, reaching for the door handle. The stopped suddenly as Bellamy threw on of his knifes at pin point accuracy, nicking the knuckles of Kane's hand drawing blood.

"The next one goes through your head." Bellamy said dead seriously. Nervousness itched at the back of his mind, he did serve the Queens House for many years and she may be able to recognise him and destroy his identity, jeopardising his mother, which he cared very little for but family is still family, but most of all Octavia, the possibilities were endless if they discovered the Rebel King had a kid sister, the perfect hostage.

"I have come to convey a message," he said turning to the Queens," It may seem like everyone is on the same side as you, support you, protect you. You Are Wrong." Bellamy said putting power in the last three words.

"We have more numbers than you could ever imagine. We stand together. As one. On the other hand you stand alone. Just one. In the end you will fall, those who you have done wrong by will be there ready to seek their revenge. You have taken everything from us and you don't even know you are doing it. Our money. Our houses. Our families. You think you have felt pain. You have felt nothing. Nothing." Bellamy said poison spilling from his tongue, using one of his greatest gifts as his advantage. His voice.

The Queen stood, pretending to be unmoved by Bellamy speech but her eyes said different. A person may put up a false facade but your eyes give everything away, hers especially. She snapped. Loudly.

" You, you... You were the one who came in here ten years ago. You were the one who murdered my daughter and husband. You took everything from me. You are a fraud and a fake you so called Rebel King. I do not believe you. No. No I don't." The Queen rambled. Falling to her knees tears budding at her eyes.

Unfortunately while he stood focused on the breaking Queen Bellamy took his eyes of Kane. Managing to loosen the knife from the door with out anyone's knowledge then sending it flying, stabbing Bellamy under his right ribs.

Gripping his side, blood flowing quickly through his hands Bellamy threw his final dagger at Kane, aiming for his head but the pain made him loose accuracy and pinning the centre of Kane's hand to the wall behind him.

Bellamy, still clutched his side went back through the servants tunnels. He had to hurry. The rest of the Royal Guard would be on his tail soon, he need to find safety fast. Giving up on navigating through the vast network of tunnels he just walk forward, his instincts taking control.

Feeling light headed and dazed he knew he was losing too much blood. The pain the only reminder to continue walking. Continue living. For the Sky People's Sake. For Octavia's. For his own sake.

His eyelids were getting heavy now. He struggled to walk using the wall as a support. He closed his eyes for what seemed like a second, feet continuing to walk as if sleep walking. He opened his eyes in a desperate attempt to survive. To see Octavia and the rest of the camp again.

Turning around, confusion now overwhelmed his already dazed mind. Trees rustled. Stars shone. He was outside but how, he must of gone through a tunnel system that exited in a small forest. Bellamy took a deep breath in, breathing in the fresh air that was so much nicer that the mustang tunnel air.

He didn't even notice his legs collapse underneath him. He didn't realise his nose in the moist leaves. Or that his pain had gone and no worry know bothered him.

What he did notice was the girl. The girl that reminded him so much of... Of who? He thought as he blacked out.


	4. The Witch's Apprentice

**_Hey all, I know it has been some time but better late than never. Sorry if it is not very consistent but I spent a bit of time. Also I have decided I am going to base this fic on season one. Hope you enjoy._**

 **Bellamy P.O.V**

Bellamy woke, feeling like he had one too many drinks the previous nights. He opened his eyes groggily, instantly regretting it when his eyes are drowned with light. And all of a sudden all of his senses were awaken, simultaneously. Pain, unbelievable pain, seemingly tearing muscle from bone. Jolting from the pain Bellamy sat up, nearly blacking out from the violent action. He had been in pain before, even been stabbed before, but nothing equated to the amount of pain he felt. But maybe that one tragic night...

'Lay down, slowly... Drink this it will help with the pain... Woah slowly.' The voice was strong and commanding. He could not see her face, his eyes were still adjusting to the light so he had to rely on his other senses. Birds sung and a soft breeze rustled the leaves. The straw mattress he was on was quite uncomfortable but it did do the trick. Wherever Bellamy was it smelt... Herbal. He didn't know many herbs, his thoughts went out to Monty and his knowledge of plants, he would have to get lessons when he got back, if he got back..

The girl picked up the bowl again, slowly bringing it towards his lips. Bellamy acted out, knocking the steaming liquid out of the girls hands.

'I do not want the Queen's mercies, I will never betray my people so why don't you kill me already,' Bellamy rose his voice, internally wincing from the pain that the miniature feat has cost. She stared at him, almost disappointedly. Standing up, she cleaned up the mess he had just made.

'You are free to go, the queen does no know of your location. However in your condition I would not move and if you leave then your wish of death will be fulfilled. That soup did take time to prepare and I do not appreciate you repaying my kindness with that...act.' Confidently she moped up the spill occasionally making eye contact with Bellamy.

Taking that as a queue to finish speaking he took in his surroundings. He seamed to be in a small wooden hut, dinged pots and pans hung from the roof. Vials of liquids and various pot plants sat on a rickety shelf that looked as if it were about to collapse at any time. There were a couple of cots to the side of the hut, near the one and only window displaying a vast forest of birches.

The girl turned to a large cauldron in the centre of the room and started humming to herself, whist adding various other ingredients. Was that a wrinkled chicken foot she cheerily plonked into her potion? Wait is she a witch? Bellamy began to sweat. Witches were rare, like non existent, like the stuff of legends. Feeling very uncomfortable he laid back down, very confused about his situation . He had been stabbed, his great plan... Was not so great. Thinking about his people back at base camp he began to, surprising, drift into a peaceful slumber. Unbeknown to him that the strange witch girl's potion's fumes were responsible for his drowsiness.

• • •

Bellamy woke, momentarily confused and disorientated about his location. Until memories started to come back slowly but surely. The hut. The stab wound. The girl, no, the witch. She was gone. In her stead was a wrinkly old lady smoking from a long grey pipe, clearly deep in thought. Catching Bellamy's movement she blinked rapidly and then smiled, a hearty smile, at him. She placed her pipe down.

'Dear child, how do you feel?' Her gravelly voice showing clear signs of age. Time has not been kind to this lady, her arms constantly shook as she tried to pick up her tea, splashing some of it contents on the table I front of her. Unfazed she met Bellamy's eyes and smiled yet again.

'Who are you... What are you?' He was sitting with his feet on the ground, unconscious of the pain he felt, rather the lack of pain. Ready to flee if danger arouse.

'I think you know the answer to that. My name is Florence, child,' She stared of into the window completely unaware of Bellamy's presence. Shaking herself from her faze she turned back to Bellamy and continued. ' where was I yes, Florence, anyway young one you are fully healed. Yes, this one was hard, the stab wound, pfft that was easy. But it was the poison, you see, the poison that was tricky and I know a lot about potions, must of been on the blade that you...well you know. Lucky for you, my brilliant apprentice had, well a... Brilliant idea. Oh what was it? hmm. Curse the heavens, what was it? Ah never mind.'

Bellamy blinked confused, over his life span he has never had the pleasure? of dealing with an exremely eccentric old lady, an eccentric old lady witch, by that.

'Anywho, it was a refreshing few weeks. My clientele has has decreased ever since I gave that young lady a potion for her morning sickness, first trimester is always the hardest you see, apart from the actual birth. It stopped the sickness but the babe was born with horns, I have never known why. You wouldn't know would you?' After a few shaky sips of her tea, Florence placed her cup down and picked up her pipe and began to puff rings of smoke.

'No... wait a few weeks, how long exactly have I been here?!' He stood up beginning to walk to the door.

' Only 17 days or so.' She was not phased by Bellamy's reaction.

'I need to go. NOW, I thank you and your apprentice for your service and I will make note of compensating for you time. My people need me, good bye.' And with that Bellamy strode out of the hut into the forest, seemingly unaware he is in his undergarments.

'Youths these days, always in a hurry.' She mumbled to no one in particular.

• • •

 **Ekra's P.O.V**

Her market run was successful, caring a clay pot full of her purchase, herbs, grains, a dead man's eyes. Florence and her lived a distance from the market, Ekra did not mind it was a refreshing walk. Where her thoughts could go wild. Today's topic: the strange boy Florence had found near the castle and brought back. He seemed familiar, like someone from a distant dream. But she would remember this beautifully rude stranger wouldn't she, would she?

She reached the hut, opening the wobbly door. Instantly enveloped in a cloud of smoke. Florence has been smoking again, you would think a healer would consider the health risks. She placed her pot on their small unstable table. Waking Florence sitting on the adjacent stool.

'How was the market, did you see Cassandra, she said she had something for you?' Florence smiled, for the ten years Ekra resided with Florence, she had never got angry or yelled.

'Yes, I will the last healing potion for our strange acquaintance then he will be...where is he?' Ekra noticed the empty cot slightly angry at Florence's ageing memory.

'Without it that boy will die within the week!'


End file.
